A Stationmaster, Two Twics, and Earth Prime
by D. M. Domini
Summary: Not everyone is comfortable at first with Afra and Damia's new relationship. Warning - Mature content!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: The world and characters in this story come from The Talent and the Hive and The Pegasus series of novels. Everything belongs to Anne McCaffrey. I'm just playacting with my invisible Talent Action Figures in my mind. I'd like to think I'm a T-4 or so storywriter, working my way up to T-2 by proximity to a Prime's works, but who knows. :D

**Author's Note:** This is technically an AU because I conveniently forget that Mrdini exist, and Damia isn't pregnant.

**Warning:** This is legitimately a PG-13 fic. It contains mature themes (at least compared to my other fics). You are warned!

* * *

**A Stationmaster, Two Twics, and Earth Prime**

By. D. M. Domini

**Chapter One**

A Stationmaster, two Twics, and Earth Prime all walked into a bar. No really, it went like that. See, we were throwing a bachelor party for Afra Lyon, and...

"That's a devilish grin on your face, Gollee," Jeff Raven, Earth Prime, told me, cutting through my chain of thought.

I felt my grin stretch wider. "You shouldn't have come, Jeff. And I mean that in the best possible way."

"Afra was the first person I met after Rowan once I got off of Deneb," Jeff protested. "Of _course_ I'm going to be here for his bachelor's party--even if he does suddenly have a relationship with my daughter that I don't want to know the particulars about," he said.

Afra observed us quietly, as was his wont, with alert yellow eyes. He knew I was up to something, but didn't quite know yet what it was. I raised a suggestive eyebrow at him, but kept my shields firm. He was a T-2 now; I had to stay on my toes.

"Yeah, that kind of came out of left field, you know?" Brian teased Afra.

Afra shrugged, and his smile turned a little sheepish. I could tell he was still nervous about letting us know about his relationship with Damia; he was jittery around Jeff, as if the man might teleport in a katana at a moment's notice and spontaneously decapitate him for having relations with his daughter.

Luckily, Jeff was Earth Prime for a reason and had enough empathy to handle the situation with as much adroitness as his own mother probably had when she had found out. He joined in the joking, but projected a soothing sense of calm that leeched any awkwardness out of the situation when Afra became nervous.

Still. He shouldn't have come. But I understood why he had.

The bar was a little hole-in-the-wall Afra and I had frequented a lot in our younger days when we could both throw back drinks and still be able to come into work the next morning intact enough to perform our duties as Twics of Callisto and Earth Towers. Well, I had thrown back drinks; Afra, once he got over me tricking him into trying it, preferred wines. Either way, we'd had plenty of hangovers.

The hole-in-the-wall had become more upscale since then, probably due to over-paid young Talents like Afra and I spending way too much of our credit here on our days off. Today I'd booked one of their back rooms and a bartender, and we wove ourselves through the crowd--which was a surprisingly appropriate mix of oldtimers our own age, and a new, fresh, younger generation--towards our destination.

"Came out of left field, my ass," I told Brian. "You just don't have any eyes in your head."

"I must be blind too, then," Jeff said. "Gave Rowan and I quite the shock."

That caused Afra to open his mouth to apologize, but I poked him in the ribs. _Quit apologizing._

_I wasn't--_Afra started to say.

_Uh-huh,_ I said, projecting a healthy dose of skepticism at him.

_I don't _want_ to apologize,_ he corrected himself. But, being Capellan, he felt like he should, anyways. He didn't say it in words, but I knew the signs that he was feeling it.

_Well, don't then. You two have had something between you for a long time; it's good it's finally official and all._

"You going to let us in on the conversation?" Brian asked, picking up that I was speaking to Afra on another band.

"He was about to apologize," I said. "Which is dumb. He's obviously ridiculously happy with her!" I turned to my friend. "We're _teasing_, Afra. Don't apologize. And Jeff--you're her dad. Of course you're blind when it comes to Damia's potential love interests."

"I'm quite not sure it works that way," Jeff said.

"Put it down to Afra being a sneaky son of a bitch, then," I said mischievously.

Afra's eyes widened, and he turned to me, his head slightly cocked to the side. "Are you implying something about my honor?" he asked, half in jest, and half seriously. Jest because he knew what Terrans thought of the Capellan sense of honor, and serious because it was true enough that he was considering becoming offended at my comments.

"I am not implying anything," I told him. _Calm down, my friend._ "But let me put it down for the record--I was not surprised."

Jeff and Brian glanced at each other, and possibly exchanged a telepathic comment or two that I could not hear, but didn't say anything.

That was fine. This _was_ a bit of payback at Afra. Despite his protests, Damia and he had had a subtle underlying note of...erotic awareness...of one another in more than a few of the interactions between them that I had witnessed over the past two years. Ever since that "Coonie" incident, where Afra ended up nursing a human-shaped "Coonie" bite on his forefinger until it healed. I'd given Damia hell for that one. It _was_ entirely possible that Afra had ignored the subtext between them so thoroughly that he had therefore believed it not to be visible to others, but I had certainly picked up on it, if only because I'd been scared witless that Rowan was going to haul me into some dark corner for questioning, and I'd be put on the spot trying to cover for Afra. And, damn it, Damia too, because the girl...the _woman_...didn't deserve half of the nagging the Rowan could put her through.

So I didn't mind hanging Afra out to dry a bit in front of Jeff and Brian. Neither would truly give him hell for it. But it would make Afra twitch. I gave Afra an evil smile.

#

I held my gift for last; I didn't even teleport it in until Brian had presented Afra with some sort of ribald book of things Afra MUST try at least once during his final days as a single man before he tied the knot, and Jeff gave Afra a little bare-chested dancing hoola girl that we all knew would probably never see the light of day in Afra's quarters, or later his home with Damia. Unless Damia found it and thought it was amusing.

I teleported my box onto the padded bench next to me. "Go over there and turn around, Jeff," I said.

"You mean Afra?" Jeff asked, surprised.

"No, I mean _you_. I have a Bachelor's party gift for Afra, and I guarantee you don't want to see what it is."

"That sounds creepy," Brian said.

"You can go over there and stand with our back to us too, if you want."

Brian snorted a laugh and stayed where he was, nursing his beer.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to molest him," I assured everyone. Nobody looked reassured for some reason. But finally, Jeff threw up his hands, rose from his seat, and faced away, so that his back was towards us.

I turned to Afra, who had a suspicious vibe to him. I grinned again, which just deepened the waves of suspicion coming off of him. I was grinning like a fool tonight, but I wanted to see his reaction so badly it almost hurt. "My wife's always harping on me giving gifts that are thoughtful, so, you know, it finally sunk in and I thought, 'What could I give Afra that he would enjoy, but which he probably _wouldn't_ run out to the store to pick up himself?' So, yeah. Here you go." I pushed the plainly wrapped box over to him. It was somewhere between the size of a shoebox and the size of a flute case.

Afra gave me a wary nod of thanks, and took the box. Neatly, with one long finger, he undid the tape at the ends and up the side, and revealed a long, polished wooden box under the paper, made of ebony on the sides, and with an inlaid maple burl wood top.

Brian let out a low whistle. "You're making me feel bad, and that's just the box," he said.

I waved the comment away. "I would have given it as a wedding gift, but weddings are decidedly more...mixed, in company. Hey! No peeking! This isn't something a Dad like you should see!" _Or at least, not your type of Daddy, Jeff,_ I thought privately behind shields so that he couldn't hear.

Jeff laughed and faced the wall again. He'd been trying to get a peek of the box.

_This isn't something "Daddies" should see?_ Afra asked me, proving that perhaps my shields weren't as firm as I thought they were. I hoped Jeff hadn't picked up the thought too.

"Open it," I commanded, pointing a finger at the box.

Afra stared at me for a long moment, then complied.

Brian burst into shocked laughter.

"Can I turn around?" Jeff asked.

"I think a 'hell no' is suitable here," Afra said, his yellow eyes widening in surprise. A faint blush darkened the green of his skin in his cheeks.

In the box in Afra's hands, lying on a bed of scarlet velvet, was a very fine, high-quality, handmade doe-skin flogger. He quietly closed the box.

I waved my hand at the box. "D'you like it?" I asked.

"I just learned _more_ about Afra than I _ever_ wanted to know," Brian confessed to the room between chuckles.

Afra went from a faint blush to all-out scarlet. He was too flustered to try to control the blood flow to his face like he usually did, although his shields were too tight to leak the actual emotion.

"It gives a whole new meaning to 'ball and chain'," Brian continued.

"I am dying of curiosity," Jeff told the wall, hands on his hips. He was almost twitching with the urge to turn around.

"Oh trust me, you _don't_ want to see what Gollee gave Afra, Jeff," Brian said.

_Do you like it?_ I asked Afra again, this time in a private telepathic thread.

_Was it necessary to give me something so blatantly...adult...in front of other people?_ There was a note of dismay in his touch.

_I told Jeff he shouldn't have come,_ I said, waving it off_. Do you like it?_

_Why do you keep asking me that?_ Afra asked.

_Because you're shielding. Really, if it's _not_ appropriate, or rather, not welcome, because it's _entirely_ inappropriate, I can take it back. But I figured...something you'd probably like, but which you wouldn't get for yourself..._I rolled my shoulder in a casual shrug.

_You do realize that _time_ with Kama and Adriana was just _one_ time._

_Sure!_ I agreed instantly and innocently.

Afra glanced at Jeff's back, and removed the box from the table and put it next to him under a stray pillow. _I think Damia will enjoy it,_ he finally told me. Then he caught my eye again and gave me a very, very small half-smile.

Good. I was satisfied; he'd liked it. _By the way, Brian has it the wrong way around. He thinks _you_..._I said.

_I noticed that, but he doesn't need to know._

I chuckled. "So!" I said. "Come sit down, Jeff."

"You have bloody good shields for a T-9," Jeff told Brian with a shameless grin as he returned to the table.

"Thank you for putting me in this position," Brian told me, sarcasm coloring his words. He was technically the weakest link in trying to keep a secret from a Prime that was standing in the same room. But his shields _were_ holding well enough, and Jeff would only try to puncture them if absolutely necessary. Doing so now for personal reasons would be a shameful thing, and Jeff wouldn't stoop to it.

"Thank Jeff--I _did_ warn him!" I said, putting it firmly back on Jeff's shoulders. "Several times. He _insisted_ on coming."

Jeff sat down in his chair and picked up his beer again, and studied Afra's blush critically, before giving his own smile. Afra sipped at his own beer and avoided Jeff's gaze by looking at me for the longest moment, and shaking his head. Poor guy. He was so conflicted.

I cackled in glee at his discomfort, until he stomped on my toe and gave me my own discomfort. "Ow. Watch where you're putting your big feet, you clod."

"I always watch where I'm putting my feet," Afra said.

#

Jeff and I walked down the mostly-quiet street in companionable silence, towards Earth Tower, where we would both take a capsule home. I had moved with my wife a few months ago to Chiwaukee, which gave me a daily commute from Lake Michigan to the East Coast, and Jeff, as always, had to go home to Callisto moonbase. Brian had already left, pleading that he couldn't pull all-nighters at his age anymore, and Afra had left as well, because he and Damia were going to meet Afra's family in a couple of hours. I hoped he had time to test out his new toy.

"I have to ask," Jeff said after a while.

"I _told_ you not to--" I warned immediately.

"Yes, yes, you've told me again and again."

"Well, don't bitch at me, because you _did_ have warning."

"I wasn't going to bitch at you!" Jeff said. "But I have to ask, now, considering what you implied. Were Damia and Afra seeing one another behind my back?"

That wasn't exactly what I had feared he was going to ask, although it was close enough. Luckily for me, though, they hadn't been. "No," I said immediately. "No. Even if Afra's honor was eroded enough to consider it, and I admit to having tried to erode his honor before, for values of 'honor' that include prissy conservativeness, he wouldn't be so stupid to attempt such a thing right under your nose. But, luckily enough, Afra has honor, and _isn't_ stupid." I looked at Jeff. "They weren't carrying on an affair at Callisto."

Jeff blew out a held breath through his nose. "That puts me at ease. Not that...you know..." _I don't _doubt_ Afra's honor, but..._the thought trailed off.

I understood. Several times in horror I had suspected something had been going on, but it'd always been a false alarm. To my _great_ and never-ending relief.

"So...say if Afra hadn't any honor, and _was_ stupid," Jeff postulated.

_He would have been on her like a barque cat in rut,_ a traitorous thought whispered deep behind my shields. It wasn't true, and I suppressed the hell of it lest Jeff pick it up. "Let's not invent and punish them for things that didn't happen," I said repressively.

"Fair enough. What _was_ going on between them on Callisto?"

I blinked at Jeff. "...didn't we just cover that he wasn't seeing her behind your back?" I asked.

"Yes. But just because they didn't...go _dating_ or anything doesn't mean _nothing_ was going on. Certainly he didn't just wake up on Deneb after, after...and suddenly realize he was head over heels and wanted to marry her?"

"Maybe that's exactly what happened?" I offered, feeling dread as Jeff was steering the conversation exactly where I didn't want it to go.

"Gollee...out of everyone in my closest circle of friends, only you didn't react with total surprise when it was announced. You even _said_ you weren't surprised."

"What are you, an empath?" I asked lightly.

"_Gollee_."

I made a sound. "Don't _do_ this to me, man. Neither of them ever said a _word_ to me, or acted improperly in _front_ of me. I've got _nothing_."

"But you know something anyway..."

I glared at the man. "And?"

Jeff sighed. "Rowan...Rowan is all but convinced that this...that this is some delayed effect from her spurning him so long ago."

"She spurned him?" I asked in confusion. "No she didn't," I said after thinking back about it. "There was nothing to spurn! If there was, and he was spurned--" I stopping running my mouth ahead of my thoughts, but the thought completed anyway. _He would have been getting furiously drunk with me. And perhaps crying. He might well have cried. They never got themselves into a situation where spurning was possible._

_You could always see through his shields better than the rest of us,_ Jeff said.

I flushed. I hadn't meant to betray Afra. _I was a lonely kid working my ass off for Reidinger when I met him. When Reidinger threw us together, I played the young Terran devil--ahem, host--to the hilt. You learn a lot about a man when his inhibitions break down. He's a good guy, Jeff. You know that. But he's as curious as a whole cargo bay of cats, particularly if someone's told him he _shouldn't_ be curious about it, or if he gets it into his head that he isn't _supposed_ to be curious about it due to his upbringing. He just doesn't admit to it, but goes off researching it anyway when nobody's looking._

"Much like a cat," Jeff mused. "Doing its own thing. I'd tend to agree." He flashed me an image of a long, dark panther with eyes the color of Afra's. The image had the weight of more years than Jeff had known Afra, which was a bit confusing.

I ignored that part, though. "And if Rowan thinks that _Afra_ has just gone and invented some substitute for her in _Damia_...she's out of her mind. And, if you'll excuse me, should deflate her ego a little bit. He hasn't been sitting on her _string_ for twenty hopeless years. He's not dumb!"

"I know. I know."

"It has _nothing_ to do with Rowan. And everything to do with Damia. Which is as it should be, if you're going to go _marry_ someone."

"So everything was platonic?" Jeff asked, catching my eyes.

God _damn_ the man. "She had a raving crush on him," I finally said.

Jeff thought about that. "She always did consider him her best friend, but--"

"And that's all it was, until she grew up and the hormones kicked in. He's a handsome guy, Jeff. And mysterious." I snorted. "Mysterious to apparently everyone but me," I amended.

"Did she _do_ anything to him?"

Oh god. I avoided Jeff's eyes.

"What did she do to him?" Jeff demanded.

I shook my head. "Nobody ever _told_ me anything, Jeff," I protested. "What do you want? Rumors? Hearsay?"

"Your reluctance to say anything worries me."

"Why are you pursuing this? Do you _want_ some sort of excuse--"

"I want to be able to defang the Rowan, if--"

"Has she been over-reacting _that_ badly?" I asked, and sighed. Trust Rowan to make things harder than they had to be. "Damia had a raving crush on the man. Being Damia, and a wild little teenager, she attempted to provoke him, as far as I could tell. He's Afra. He wasn't provoked, and each time she tried it she'd end up in this foul little mood for days after being turned down. Is that the gossip you wanted? Nobody ever told me anything, I just noticed Damia periodically would be up to something, and then something would happen, and Afra would be strained and stressed for a few days, and Damia in an unholy furor of a mood. Boom, boom, boom, one thing after another."

Jeff was shocked. "That little--"

"It's over! It's done with!" I said, trying to stem his anger.

_I never would have Towered her if I'd realized she was involved in some sort of sexual abuse--_

_Who said it was sexual?_ I demanded. _I didn't say that! I never said the provoking was sexual. You know how she likes to get people all wound up and angry._

_She does?_ Jeff asked in dismay. _I never meant to put Afra in such a situation--_

_What? You had nothing to do with it! Damia's a grown woman. And believe you me, I chewed her out for the worst of it and shipped her to Capella so they could take her down a peg. And so she could learn a thing or two about Capellans._

Jeff turned to look at me. "You did?" and he raised an eyebrow.

I turned red realizing I'd just admitted to disciplining Jeff's daughter without ever telling him I had done so until now, but didn't break the eye contact. "I took _care_ of it Jeff. And it has no bearing now on things. Damia has done very well as Prime of Aurigae, aside from," and I shrugged to indicate the Sodan incident. "Damia has _matured_. It's plain as day. I can almost see what he sees in her, now. And they're obviously very happy with one another."

Jeff looked at the ground and chewed on what I'd just said for a while. Then he spoke again. "What did you get Afra?"

I hung my head, defeated, and flashed him an image of the little doe-skin flogger in its wooden box.

Jeff was quiet for a few long moments, and to my dismay, I caught a quick image of Afra tied up and Damia wielding--

_Yeah, Brian got it the wrong way around too,_ I said.

_I didn't need to know that,_ Jeff said, eyes widening.

I threw up my hands. _Really now?!_ I began to laugh. _You've certainly been putting me to the rack for information!_

_Damn it, I'm going to have to shield from Rowan all _night_, now,_ Jeff cursed. _She's going to ask questions about that._

I laughed harder.

"Shut up," Jeff commanded.

"I told you, I _told_ you! And you just _went_ along and persisted..." I managed between laughter. I also repeated it telepathically. _I told you!_

Jeff groaned. "So you did. But it's one thing to realize your little girl is grown up from an intellectual level, and quite another to have one of your best friends and _toys_ involved in a real life scenario."

"I don't know if he'll _use_ it," I confided. "I just wanted to see him lose control enough to blush. _That_ was the best part. I'll remember _that_ forever." I chortled again, remembering Afra's intense discomfort.

"You're a wicked man. And also the one who said Afra likes to go doing stuff he thinks he shouldn't just to try it out, so don't try to excuse it with the idea that he might not. Maybe I should just stay in the Tower all night; the Rowan will hit the roof if I slip up...I need to bleach my brain..."

Jeff did indeed chose to stay the night on Earth. I don't know what excuse he gave Rowan, but we parted ways a while later, with him kvetching about brain bleach, and I giggled my way home to my wife, sounding drunker than I actually was. This was absolutely the best prank I'd ever managed to pull on Afra. And once I'd bared my soul to Jeff, watching him try to suppress the heck out of his new, not-exactly-welcome knowledge was absolutely one of the funniest things I'd seen in a long, long time. _Be careful what you wish for,_ I sent to him once at home, picking up at the edges of my mind that he was _still_ kvetching to himself as he readied for bed.

_Shut up, Gren._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Damia wasn't at Callisto when Afra returned home, and he couldn't help but be a bit grateful for it, although he missed her. He'd been quite surprised--and, well, _mortified_--that Gollee had dared to give him a sadistic sex toy. To the bastard's intense delight.

Afra wasn't exactly sure where it fell within his moral code...floggers were, of course, originally weapons of punishment made exclusively for use on humans. He'd long ago decided that weapons made for use on humans weren't something he could become involved with without compromising his moral integrity--something he'd discovered when musing on guns, and if, as a pacifistic man, his pacifism extended to animals one would use for food. It might be splitting hairs, but what he'd decided was that he could handle weapons for hunting food; he'd be a hypocrite if he couldn't, giving he didn't intend to give up meat and animal-based products like eggs and milk anytime soon. But weapons not used for hunting food were not anything he wished to be involved with.

"Trust Gollee to make me re-think my moral code with a silly toy at this late date," Afra muttered to himself, and set the box on the kitchen counter. He was in the midst of packing his things together, to be transported to Iota Aurigae sometime in the near future, and he supposed the wooden box could be fitted in _somewhere_...

But in the meantime, he and Damia were due to meet his family on Capella for dinner in a few hours, and he had to get some sleep. So he shucked his clothes, crawled into bed, and tried not to dread the introduction of his high-strung love to his very conservative and proper family. But it was the sort of thing one dreaded no matter how many pep talks one gave themselves. He hadn't met with his family in person for so long, he half-suspected he'd end up fighting his Methody upbringing again, as proximity caused behaviors he had long ago discarded as unnecessary here on Callisto to rise up and influence his conduct.

#

Damia arrived at Callisto deep into its sleep cycle. She had a small bag of relatively modest clothing and necessities with her that she'd packed at home on Iota Aurigae, and she set her own capsule down with the softest of touches, so that only the changing of the sensors in the Tower would let anyone know she had arrived.

There was a young man on duty when she 'ported out, handsome, red-haired, the kind of boy she might have flirted with and strung along once upon a time, if he hadn't been Talented. She wasn't sure what to make of that self-assessment, except to wonder what it would have been like to be on the other end of her flirtations. A sort of empathy that she had only acquired recently made her thoughtful.

He looked a little nervous to see her there; undoubtedly, as this was a moon base, he wasn't used to having to _actually_ deal with people entering the Tower on off-hours as the only ones able to arrive when Rowan and Jeff were off duty were Primes and other similar high talents. She lightly touched his mind and saw two thoughts chasing themselves; that she was obviously a Gwyn-Raven by the hair, so she was alright being here, and _why would they post a Talent in the Tower at night if it wasn't necessary?_

Wordlessly she soothed him, and let him look at her ID. "Damia Raven-Lyon," she said. "I don't think we've met?"

"Prime!" the young man said, still a bit flustered despite her minor lean. "No, we haven't, unless we have, except I'm pretty sure that I would have remembered you, but the Tower _does_ get busy..."

"I've been stationed on Iota Aurigae," I told him, which he already knew but was too tongue-tied to remember. "So I haven't been home for a few months. I just wanted to check in and say hello, so you wouldn't be alarmed by my capsule landing without anyone ever exiting it," and she nodded towards the rounded shadow out in the landing bay where she'd set down.

"I'm not alarmed," the young man assured her. She heard him cursing himself for such an inane comment a moment later.

"Good to know," Damia said to his spoken comment with a smile. "You have a good night. Don't fall asleep on duty, though; if mother finds out, she'll be mad, and you don't want the Rowan mad at you!"

"I'm not. Sleeping, that is."

"I figured," Damia said, grinning, and felt a ghost of the old minx rise up in her. But she ignored it and lit out into the station itself. Afra was here! And, surprisingly, she missed him, despite that she'd seen him less than a day ago. A touch on his mind let her know that he was sleeping, but she wanted his company, even if he was asleep.

_You'll get sick of one another soon enough,_ Isthia had warned. It hadn't happened yet, though.

She hurried through the deserted Tower.

It was decidedly deja vu-ish, in the mundane way, not the Talented way, to be back at Callisto again. More so to be headed towards Afra's quarters, rather than her mom and dad's, for the night. Afra's door had been keyed to her palm for ages, but when she arrived, it was still gratifying to see it slide politely open even at this deep, dark hour of "night".

There was a soft jingle of a bell as Ringle awoke even at that slight sound, and a moment later, she had an armful of Coonie garbling in her face. She gave him a good scritching behind his large, fluffy ears, and set him down again, along with her belongings, next to where Afra had obviously packed his own bags for Capella. Then, somehow feeling as if she were intruding, she crept across his living room to peer into the bedroom.

Afra was sound asleep, sprawled on his belly against the cream-colored bedding, his green skin complementing the color scheme. Or so she thought...it was entirely possible that she'd think he'd be complimentary to _any_ decorating scheme given he'd lost most of his coverings except for a corner of sheet partly hiding the line between buttock and thigh.

She'd always wanted to jump him in this particular bed. On his own territory, so to speak.

_He needs his rest, and so do I_, she tried to convince herself, trying to put a leash on hormones. _We'll be having an interesting day tomorrow. _She'd been on Capella before, but had steadfastly prevented herself from seeking out Afra's family, for fear of it seeming stalker-ish. She had run into his father once by chance during her stay on that world, but the man had had no conception that she knew Afra personally at the time, and his manners had been at once entirely familiar yet so different and alien that she hadn't introduced herself on a personal level for fear that she'd embarrass Afra and herself. Come to think of it, she was still frightened of embarrassing Afra--despite his wry assurances that she could probably strip naked and do a dance in a giant bowl of whipped cream with a strawberry in her mouth and they'd excuse it on account of her being a Prime.

_Where did that thought come from?_ she'd asked him mischievously.

Afra had played innocent in that pseudo-Methody way of his that was, she realized now, anything _but_ innocent.

Damia quit hovering in the doorjamb and went over to the refresher, removing her clothing as she went. Once in (after dissuading a curious Ringle--you'd think he'd never seen a naked woman walk into a refresher before) she turned it up as hot as it would go, and soaked for an all-too-short five minutes before the timer shut it off. She soaped up, then punched for another five minutes and rinsed, and thus refreshed, wandered back into the living room, wrapping a towel around her head to soak up the wet in her hair as she did so.

She really did intend to go to sleep when she entered the bedroom again, but Afra, in true bachelor habit, was hogging both sides, lying as he was sort of diagonally across the bed. So, mischievously, she reached down and stroked the bottom of one foot softly, to waken him enough to move. He twitched, the warm toes curling against her hand, then stilled, breathing patterns still long and regular, sound asleep. She pouted at him for a moment, then tickled his feet once more. Again, he twitched, but didn't wake. Perhaps his feet weren't ticklish. So she slid her hands up his firm calves, stroking and tickling, to see if he had any _spot_. _She_ had plenty of ticklish spots, but she'd never had the time to find _his_ before, given each time she had tried, he had reduced her to a giggling, softly shrieking mess, finding every single ticklish spot on her body with ease and dexterity.

As her fingers reached the back of his knees, she felt a definite shift in his mental patterns; a shift from amorphous dreaming behind his shields into something that incorporated her nocturnal tormenting of his body. She grinned wickedly and stroked the skin at the crooks of his knees, first one leg and the other, and sensed the dream incorporate the touches split seconds later, winding it into whatever dreamscape he was seeing.

This could be interesting. Moving slowly and lightly with her hands, and gently monitoring his mind with her own, she moved up the backs of his thighs, with their light dusting of blond hair, and then up the inner side of one in a movement his dream world definitely interpreted as erotic. She paused to lightly watch the dream, wondering what explanations, what images and sensations his mind would offer to explain the way she was touching him? It was difficult to tell without actually entering the dream itself--something she didn't want to do if it turned erotic, she didn't want to burn him like she had Amr--but it seemed to mirror something close to sleep. He was dreaming about dreaming about sleeping. Except that it was somehow erotic.

Damia didn't know how to interpret that, so she moved onto one of his arms, leaving his more private parts alone, unsure as to his exact reception if he awoke to find her fondling him. He could take it in stride, or he might be insulted that she did not get his permission first. There was so much about him that she didn't know yet. So instead she touched one out-flung arm, running her fingers through the fine golden hairs, stroking up the vulnerable wrist. Then she leaned down and licked the thin, sensitive skin at the bend of his arm. He twitched again, and this time she could feel his dreams take a more deeply erotic turn. To her gratification, his mind had her starring in the dream. Whether it was chance, or because his sleeping mind knew she was there, it was hard to say, but it spurred her on. She added some telekinetic touches, to his feet, legs, arms, back. Coaxing, soothing, stirring his blood. He fell deeper into his dream, his mind enmeshed in its sultry cobwebs, and she leaned across him to plant a kiss at the base of his neck, and to nibble at his hairline.

It was a fine line to walk; touching his body enough to intrude on his dream, but not deep enough to quite awaken him yet. He drempt that she was close, that she was holding him down with her mind and tormenting him in numerous ways. Close to reality, except for the part where she held him down. He was inventing that all on his own, probably due to the fact that he was still asleep, and not moving. She watched a flush arise in his face, on his cheeks, on his partially opened lips, and down his shoulders. He wasn't snoring, but his breathing had deepened, and she thought she heard--

Yes. He made another sound, deep in his throat, partly voiced as a note on the higher end of the range of sounds a tenor could make. She gently stroked his lower lip with her thumb, watching the flesh move and reshape itself as her thumb stroked over it, and watched as his out-flung arm moved up to curl by his face. His fingers closed as if gripping something, and she wondered what he held onto in his dream; it was hidden too deeply to pick up without breeching the sanctity of his mind. She added a few more telekinetic touches, and his grasping hand closed around the edge of the pillow by his head, and he made another soft sound in his throat. She leaned in close and kissed that perfect bottom lip, sucking on it, nibbling at it, and then she realized he was awake, half-closed yellow eyes staring down at her--

#

Afra felt Damia's thrill when she realized he was awake and looking at her, and it pushed him further up the edge that he'd been riding in dream. It wasn't fear that she felt--not quite. It was exhilaration, and he knew that she hadn't been sure if she had been pushing the line with him or not, interacting with him like this while he was unconscious.

His body throbbed painfully, urgently, and he twitched against the bed as she continued sucking on his lower lip, her nerves sparking with adrenaline and a dash of not-quite-fear in a way that excited him as the emotions spilled through their physical link. He reached up and pulled the towel off of her head, letting her damp hair spill down around them, and engaged her mouth more fully, nuzzling against her.

_We _do_ need to sleep,_ he told her, his mind forming the words sluggishly, and sending her more feedback from his body than he intended. With an effort, he closed his mind to her, lest they form a disastrous merge that would burn him to a crisp. _But what a way to die!_ his thoughts caroled irreverently. He put up firmer shields regardless.

"Maybe," she said, her breath gasping against his mouth, "if you wore more clothes to bed I wouldn't be tempted to ravish you instead of sleeping."

"So this is all my fault?" he purred. "And not just you being naughty?"

"Some of both," she admitted with a laugh, and, now that he was awake and obviously consenting, she stoked a fire in certain parts of his body with her mind, and watched in glee as he reacted, Methody control, aside from the shields on his mind, breaking down under the more-than-welcome assault.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"So how'd the bachelor party go?" Damia asked Afra as they strode down the halls of Callisto side by side a few mostly sleepless hours later, towards the Tower. They were both technically still on leave; Isthia had cleared their health enough to let them come back to the moonbase, but Elizara still wanted a look at them before they officially went back to work. _Did you get strippers?_

Afra eyed Damia, trying to figure out if she was serious, and if she was serious, if she _cared_, and saw that her eyes were glinting in a highly amused manner, so he figured she already knew the answer, she was just making fun of him.

_We got Afra a small battalion of strippers, men and women, and some that were both!_ Jeff said. _It was great! But...don't tell your mom..._

_DAD! Get out of my head!_ Damia wailed, horrified that her father would ever comment on such a thing in front of her.

"Ha," Afra said, amused. _There were no strippers involved,_ Afra assured her just to keep in form, and shook his head at Jeff's antics. As if the weird factor between him and Jeff hadn't already been uncomfortably high...

_You know,_ Gollee chimed in, _I _tried_ to get us some strippers, but-_

"I shouldn't have asked!" Damia said. "I'm sorry!" _Shut up, shut up!_

_You fail at arranging bachelor parties,_ Jeff told Gollee. _Over twenty years of being single, and he didn't even get a single stripper. Life isn't fair!_

_But I made up for it!_ Gollee said. _I totally did. _Then there was a large, awkward pause, and suddenly neither Jeff nor Gollee were present anymore.

Afra backtracked, trying to figure out where the large awkward pause came from. Then he realized..._Wait,_ Afra said, and reached out to Gollee, capturing the lesser Talent in a mental bear hug. _You _told_ him?_ Afra didn't mean to, but he sensed that his outrage hadn't been totally contained and had hit Gollee sort of hard. So he quickly reined his temper in.

_Aw fuck,_ Gollee said, re-arranging his shields under Afra's probe.

_You _told_ him. About it._ That's not something he wanted Jeff to know he had!

Gollee projected a very strong sense of apology.

_Told Dad about what? _Damia asked, intensely curious.

_...she doesn't know?_ Gollee asked.

_Know _what_?_ Damia demanded.

_Shush, love. I'll tell you later. I want to be able to introduce you to my family and still be able to look them in the eye!_

_Hahahahaha! _Gollee chortled wildly, and vanished again.

Damia gave Afra a suspicious look.

"I'll tell you later, I promise," Afra said. "C'mon, your mother needs to fling us over to Capella, and if we don't get a move on, Brian's nicely laid plans for today's Tower logistics are going to be shot to hell."

"I'm holding you to that promise," Damia warned.

Afra pulled her close for a brief hug that thrilled her-anyone could see them here out in public, and know they were _together_-which was a bit of a juvenile reaction she knew, but still-and they picked up the pace to the Tower.

Accelerating the pace didn't really matter in the end, however...the moment one of the Tower crew spotted them, all work seemed to halt, and Afra and Damia were quickly surrounded.

"What are you two doing here!" Ray exclaimed. "Coming to _taunt_ us, hey? While we're out here doing _work_? Slackers! You know, I heard-" and his eyes flicked from Afra to Damia and back again.

Afra confirmed their relationship with a stolid calm, and Damia knew she looked like an idiot with the silly grin plastered on her face, but she couldn't seem to help it. Ray pummeled Afra on the back hard enough to bruise, and eagerly congratulated them both.

Despite Afra's earlier fears, Brian took the commotion in stride, and the Rowan indulgently called a fifteen minute break for everyone. As Afra and Damia both fielded well-wishes, the Rowan greeted them with a mental touch. _So, how was the bachelor party?_ she asked, entirely innocent of the earlier conversation on the same topic.

Damia groaned.

_The first rule about the bachelor party is that you don't talk about the bachelor party,_ Afra intoned solemnly, and Damia swore that he had to be quoting from somewhere, but she couldn't figure out where.

_Hear hear!_ Jeff, Gollee, and, surprisingly to Damia, Brian, all caroled.

They felt the Rowan pause to digest this, unsure if the men were joking, or dead serious. _Alright..._she said when nobody elaborated. _I guess if you were all out reveling in time-honored manly ways that might not be something I want to hear about. Pry my crew off of you, Afra-I know it's been a long time, but you'll be back, even if it's not permanent, and if we hesitate any longer we'll be sludging up the works for the other Towers. I've got David and Capella both waiting on me._

_We're moving!_ Damia assured her mother, and gradually they made their way through the crowd, carrisaks in hand, to the capsule that would be sending them to Capella.

_Indeed, we're on our way,_ Afra confirmed.

As they bundled themselves into the capsule, Damia was hit once again by nervous jitters. The entire Lyon family probably wouldn't be there to greet them at the capsule since it was a working day, but Afra's mother and father both worked the main Capellan Tower and they might be able to pop in to greet them before returning to their duties. "How do I look?" she asked her lover anxiously.

Afra reached up and closed the door to their capsule, and then turned to look at her, staring at her hair, and then slowly roving down to her feet and back up again before meeting her eyes again. And although his face was neutral-purposely, she thought-she blushed a deep red that made the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smile, and laughter lines appear in the corners of his eyes. Instead of summing up his opinion in words, he sent her a mixed touch, the dominant concept being that she _pleased_ him.

"Stop that!" she chided him, not wanting to step out of the capsule on Capella in what would be understatedly called a "hot and bothered" state. She also shielded furiously, so that none of the Tower would pick their flirtations up.

"Stop what?" he asked her mildly.

_Here we go,_ the Rowan said suddenly into their minds, cutting off their conversation. _One of you say hello to Goswina for me, will you? She's done well by us, sending us Afra and all,_ and the Rowan's tone held a note of teasing towards Afra, and also towards her daughter, including "Damia" as a person Goswina had done well by.

_I will tell her you said hello,_ Afra said. _Although I'm hoping that you will be able to say it yourself if I can get things sorted out as planned._

_...my mind is having a bit of trouble imagining the Raven side of the family meeting the new Lyon side of the family,_ the Rowan said drolly. _Something like mixing oil and water, or a base and an acid, comes to mind. Nonetheless, I'd be pleased to meet Goswina face to face again. I'm giving you over to Capella now-have fun!_

And with that, they both sensed more than felt Capella's strong, dutiful presence catch the capsule they were in, and set it down into its proper place on the Capella Tower cargo field.

_Welcome back to the homeworld, young Afra,_ Capella said, and then there was a pause as she identified the other occupant. _And Iota Aurigae!_ there was a sliver of surprise at Damia's presence, quickly modulated.

"Iota Aurigae?" Afra asked vocally.

"That's what she calls me," Damia said. "My sister is 'Prime Gwyn-Raven', and my brother 'Deneb'. Cera thinks she still can't quite admit that Guzman of Procyon is no longer Prime there."

"I see." _Thank you for the welcome, Prime,_ Afra said politely to Capella, and triggered the capsule's door. _Take a deep breath,_ he teased Damia on a private band. However, to Damia's surprise, she realized that the words might be for himself as well; his hand, as it grasped hers, trembled in the same way it had when he'd announced their relationship to her parents.

_He really does care deeply about what people think of him, doesn't he?_ she thought privately.

Afra caught the thought anyway. _The urge to conform with one's family's expectations is always strong, no matter how many years have gone by, and by their standards I should have stood still and let them marry me off to a nice local girl two decades ago. Not that I expect them to make you unwelcome, quite the contrary-they're happy I found anyone at all at this point! But as it stands, I am the only one in my immediate family to have a love-match, or rather, a love-match from the start, rather than a marriage of convenience that later grew into love._

_I thought your sister loved her husband from the start?_

_Goswina was lucky, and our parents chose well for her. But it was an arranged marriage. My brother was not so lucky. He took a lover seven years into his marriage and was found out, and his wife divorced him on the grounds of his lack of fidelity, and the resulting shame was so powerful that the lover he betrayed his wife for couldn't bear to be seen with him again, despite the fact that he fancied himself madly in love with her and he wanted to start a new family with her. He was devastated that he lost both his wife and his lover._

_That's horrible...did she ever love him? The lover, that is._

_I don't know,_ Afra said. _I never met her. Chostel only reached out to me because I was considered the "wild" one, and he seemed to think that I might be able to pull something out of a hat for him._ Afra sounded a bit bemused. _It was an interesting conversation._

Damia tried to picture Afra as some sort of black-sheep Don Juan, and failed. _You're hardly "wild", Afra,_ Damia said.

Afra quirked an eyebrow at her. _You think_?

_Well, I mean, you have your public persona, which is almost correct to a fault, and then you have your private persona, and I suppose that there are...aspects...of you...that you don't generally make known...that are very open-minded..._

_ Exactly,_ Afra said. _No matter how close or distant one's relationship with their family is, the fact remains that they have some idea about the quirks you hide from everyone else. They saw you grow up from infancy. That knowledge of you doesn't change just because you're not close to them any longer._

_Oh,_ Damia said, thinking that perhaps she understood. _You were a wild kid?_

_Not like a Denebian,_ and the look in his eyes was teasing, _but among my family? Yes, I'm a bit of a wild, black sheep._ He chuckled, and heaved the capsule door up, and they stepped out.

Neither Afra's father or mother were available to meet them it seemed, but a few moments after they stepped out of the capsule, a man of roughly Jeran's age spotted them, and hastened over. He was tall, although not as tall as Afra, with short dark ash-blond hair cut conservatively, and rather beautiful spring-green eyes a shade or two darker than his skin. There was a definite family resemblance, and if the man had been closer to Afra's age Damia would have thought that perhaps he was the philandering Chostel; certainly he was handsome enough to tempt a woman to dally with him.

_Mmmmm?_ Afra asked, catching that thought.

_Are you worried?_ Damia asked wickedly.

_I highly doubt you want to train a puppy,_ Afra said haughtily, and Damia struggled not to laugh.

Veswind, son of Goswina, bowed to them both politely, deaf to their shielded thoughts. Afra bowed back, and Damia, the odd one out, suddenly wondered if she should bow or curtsy, never having done either in her life, except in mock. Afra projected soothing thoughts at her; not being Capellan, she wasn't expected to bow.

"Uncle Afra! It's a pleasure to see you again. When we heard that you were coming, mother was overjoyed."

"I'm happy to be here, and glad that you'll have me. Veswind, this is the soul and center of my life, Damia Gwyn-Raven. Damia, this is my nephew Veswind. His mother is my elder sister Goswina."

"It's good to meet you," Damia said.

A faint expression of shock crossed Veswind's face and mind before he shielded by reflex, not unlike how Afra was prone to shielding. "Prime! I didn't realize-"

"Please, just call me Damia, there's no need to stand on ceremony, I'm not in the Tower on business," and she gave the young man a bright smile that just flustered him more, as far as she could tell.

"Ah," he said, and the bafflement was quickly replaced by what was probably meant to be a neutral look, but just made him look lost and perhaps a little sub-par in the intelligence department. He bowed again. "Thank you, Damia."

_Still dallying material?_ Afra teased her.

_He needs your help, Afra. You could teach him a few things._

_Don't be too hard on him; like me, the Methody way doesn't always sit well on his shoulders. He has a hard time keeping his emotions off of his face; given rein, I suspect he would turn out somewhat like Gollee, or Jeff when he first came to Callisto. He's an outgoing lad, and being restrained wears on him. I like him best of the lot!_

_Well that's certainly a recommendation. Here's a question-didn't you tell them who I was?_

_Not really, no; I figured you'd prefer if the production they made was for the woman, not the Prime. My family is very self-conscious about rank, although they don't mean it in a bad way._

_Hmm. Alright. I'm quite the catch, am I?_ She teased.

"Unfortunately, since we are in the middle of a working day, my mother or grandparents were unable to come meet you, Uncle Afra, but they sent me in their stead as I have some free time before I ship out."

"To Callisto?" Afra inquired.

Veswind looked surprised. "I haven't heard which Tower they're sending me to," he said. "Grandfather says I'd make a good stationmaster-" and he broke off when Afra gave him an almost expressionless, but still pointed, look. Damia felt a wave of frustration roll off of Afra, and gently touched his hand.

"You're going to Callisto," Afra assured his nephew.

"Am I?"

"Yes. Once the Blundell medics give me a clean bill of health, I will be moving to Iota Aurigae as Damia's twic, which means the Rowan at Callisto will need a new second-in-command. She requested a Capellan specifically, and another Lyon if possible, and as a T-3, you fit the bill on all counts."

Veswind was delighted. "Are you sure? As a second in command? I mean, I'd of course be _honored_ to be a Stationmaster elsewhere-"

Afra made a rude noise. "They tried that on me. They wanted me to become Capella Stationmaster."

"What?" Damia said in surprise.

"It's true, my love," Afra said. "I thought I had the ability to do more then what I was already doing, so I saved up my credits and sent a resume to your mother when I was old enough, and she immediately sent a request for me to come to Callisto. Although she did admit the quick request was partly just to mess with Earth Prime at the time-as well as honor her promise to my sister. The rest, you could say, is history."

"I wasn't aware of that," Veswind said.

Afra brought one long finger in front of his mouth to indicate silence. _The family actually doesn't know I instigated those events. I acted very surprised when the Rowan's summons came, and to be honest I _was_ surprised, as I hadn't expected them to come so quickly, if at all. My point is, don't be afraid of reaching for the stars. If you never try, you'll never fail, but you also will never succeed. Just do your reaching politely._

Damia smirked to herself.

_I see,_ Veswind said. _Thank you, sir._

Afra shrugged a little, having not quite intended to lecture his nephew, who was older than his now-partner, after all.

Veswind had a sled waiting outside, and once they climbed in, he punched in their destination, and the three of them sat back for the ride. While Afra himself had grown up in the crew quarters of Capella Tower, his parents had moved out into the city a couple of years after Afra had unexpectedly flown the nest, into a smaller place with an actual yard, since he was the last of their brood. It did have a guestroom, however, and after discussing it together, Damia and Afra had decided to take them up on their offer, as it would please his parents, and Damia was afraid that if they rented a room in a local hotel Afra's family might think her standoffish.

"They might," he had told her. "But they would find that to be proper for a woman of your stature, given Capella's normal mode of operation. You certainly wouldn't get any flak for it."

"I'm not Capella!"

"Indeed not!"

It was an interesting experience for Damia to see Afra's parents' home; while she had stayed at Capella Tower during her Apprenticeship, most of her socializing had (unfortunately) been with Capella, who had taken the planet's name as her own, but was not a Capella native herself. So it was with intense curiosity that Damia looked around when they were shown in. There were indeed some similarities with the way Afra had furnished his own quarters, but the decor was far more...homogenous here, whereas Afra felt free to incorporate aspects of whatever other cultures had caught his interest, around the basic simply-formed lamps and chairs and couches, which lent his quarters an eclectic air that was only evident now that she was seeing the inside of a born-and-bred Methody Capellan home.

Afra noted her fascination with amusement, which caused her to stick out her tongue at him, and they stowed their belongings in the guestroom, before joining Veswind again as offered refreshments and kept them entertained outside on the patio until everyone else arrived. Veswind tried to keep them entertained, but he was a little flustered by Damia, and so both Afra and Damia traded off the duty of keeping the conversation flowing and interesting so that Veswind wouldn't turn himself into a nervous wreak.

_Is that her, Afra?_ a familiar voice said in Afra's head some time later, and he glanced over his shoulder to see the form of his elder sister walking across the small yard towards them. _You didn't mention that you'd fallen in love with the Rowan's daughter! That's Damia Gwyn-Raven, Iota Aurigae Prime, is it not? You've just made mother's day harder-she'll be frantic now!_

Afra glanced at Damia, who was listening to Veswind intently, but she didn't seem to have picked up the exchange between Afra and his sister. He gently prodded her, and she looked up, as did Veswind.

"Mother!" Veswind greeted Goswina, and rose.

Afra rose as well, and embraced his sister, which surprised her, but she returned his embrace readily enough, remembering that Afra was more demonstrative of his love than most of the family. _Damia would like to be considered part of the family first, and Prime after that, not the other way around, sister of mine,_ Afra said somewhat sternly on the private level they had shared since he was quite young. Then he modulated his tone and sent her a shaft of love in case he had come off too harsh, and spoke out loud. "It's been a long time, Goswina, it's good to see you! How are you?"

"I'm doing well-how are _you_? We'd heard you'd been hurt," and Goswina's yellow-green eyes searched his own, looking for any external evidence of his ills.

"Damia and I convalesced on Deneb under her grandmother's watchful eye; we both expect a clean bill of health once we bounce back to Blundell for the final evaluation. That being said, I've never felt better," and Afra smiled at his sister. "Damia, this is my elder sister Goswina. Goswina, this is Damia Gwyn-Raven-"

"-Lyon," Damia finished for him. "Shortened to 'Raven-Lyon'. Three families in one name is a bit dynastic!"

"We're not building a dynasty?" Afra queried with a small half-smile.

"Only if you're officially adding 'Raven' to your name!"

Afra's eyebrows went up. "I wouldn't presume to-" he began.

Damia's eyes twinkled. "Of course not, so I'll presume on your behalf," she said with a laugh. "Feel free to call yourself 'Raven-Lyon' whenever you'd like."

Afra paused, tried to imagine introducing himself by that name, and couldn't. Even with Damia's permission, it was too presumptuous. Even with a writ from Jeff and/or Isthia themselves...no.

"-or not," Damia said, following his train of thought.

Afra shrugged. "Old habits die hard," he said.

Damia held out her hand to Afra's sister, and Goswina, after a moment of hesitation, the other woman brushed it gently so that they could take each other's measure. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Goswina," Damia said. "I've heard a lot about you."

"It's a pleasure to meet one of one of Rowan's children," Goswina said. "And Afra's intended. I actually thought I'd never see the day," and her tone teased Afra just a little bit with its wryness. "Thank you for coming to visit us." She turned slightly towards Afra. "Mother and Father should be home shortly; we've booked reservations at a restaurant in the city; Chostel and our sisters are going to meet us there."

"Quite the family reunion," Afra said.

"Yes, actually, although I don't know if all our nieces and nephews will make it. Two of them are studying for exams they'll be sitting tomorrow, and we're uncertain if they'll be able to take the time away from their studies tonight...but you're here for, what, a week?"

"That's what we've planned," Damia said.

"I'd expect everyone to be able to pop in sooner or later then, for you to meet, Damia." She glanced at Afra. "Mother and Father have taken this as an excuse for a family reunion of a sorts, given that you don't come back to Capella very often. We might even see some of our cousins."

Afra cocked his head to the side. "I see. I don't think I've ever been to a family gathering that would consider itself a family reunion," he commented.

"I think it will be interesting," Goswina said ambiguously, with a hint of humor so faint that Damia suspected she wouldn't have caught it if she wasn't used to Afra's subtlety. Then she turned her head, tracking a sled that was turning onto the road. "Mother and Father are here; come, they'll want to meet you, Damia," and the woman made a gesture for Damia, and presumably Afra and Veswind as well, to follow her around the side of the house.

Damia felt a sudden surge of anxiety, but Afra brushed up against her side and gently body-bumped her forward and touched a warm hand to her back to reassure her when she would have stayed frozen in place. She forced herself to walk, and wondered exactly how she should present herself; the urge to put on her Prime-persona was strong, but she knew that that would get her started off on the wrong foot. She wanted to be a _person_, not just a Prime. And it wasn't exactly like she had any crew to command here.

There was a sense from Afra that he was amused. _Except me. But that's perhaps delving into personal matters that my parents might be uncomfortable with_, Afra said.

Damia raised an eyebrow at him. _Oh, so you'd like me to "command" you, eh?_

_We will discuss that topic later,_ Afra said with a slight smile, before shifting his attention elsewhere_. _There was a startled pause from him then, and Damia tracked Afra's gaze to the sled his parents were exiting. _It is decidedly peculiar to be embarrassed at this late date by what your parents are wearing,_ he told her, sending a mingled sense of embarrassment and bemusement. Then his mind seemed to fall down to a level that Damia had a little trouble hearing. _What is Mother wearing, Gossie?_

_Oh dear. Why _did_ she wear that outfit today?_ Goswina responded.

_Should I ask her?_ Afra said.

_Oh no, no, no, Afra. Don't do that, you'll kill her. Just _ignore_ it, I'll ask her about it privately. She'll probably change for dinner, anyway, since we're going out._

_Think we can steal it and burn it after she's changed when her back is turned?_ Afra asked.

Goswina immediately gave him a look of censure. _It's an ugly shirt, but there's no need to blow it out of proportion, Afra._

_That was a joke, dear sister. No offense was meant._

Goswina softened a bit. _So many non-Capellan things have rubbed off on you,_ she said, and it was uncertain if she felt that was a good thing, or a bad thing. Perhaps it was just a different thing. _You're entirely too impressionable...but then you always were._ There was a flicker of thought, that she was referring more to someone else other than Afra, but the thought was half-shielded.

Nevertheless, Afra knew his sister well. _We'll speak about Veswind later,_ he told her.

_And soothe a mother's fears?_ she asked with a touch of humor. "Mother, Father, Afra is here, along with his intended Damia Gwyn-Raven. Damia, this is Afra's and my father, Gos Lyon, and our mother Cheswina."

Cheswina was indeed wearing an ugly shirt, but greeted Damia politely with a curtsey-although Damia was unsure if there was any other way a Capellan would, or could, greet anyone. Gos Lyon bowed deeply, far deeper than Damia had expected or felt comfortable with, and Damia unintentionally caught from him the surprise and dismay both he and his wife felt-why hadn't Afra told them who she was? How had Afra, their long-bachelor wild child managed to become involved with a _Prime_?

In Gos' and Cheswina's defenses, their overheard thoughts held no intended malice-there were hints of concern over Afra's well-being, and his lifestyle, tentative joy that he had found someone, embarrassment and pride that the person he'd found was a Prime...yes, he'd been quite right about how they valued rank and honor...but it was all very alien to how her family thought about such things. Particularly since what she picked up wasn't _supposed_ to be picked up, and neither of her intended in-laws felt the desire or need to address their concerns openly to her (or to Afra for that matter), like her family was prone to. She supposed it might be considered impolite to the Lyons' way of thinking.

_What would have happened if you had turned out gay?_ Damia asked Afra, curious. From her history she knew that conservative cultures sometimes had a taboo against it, and Capella was definitely conservative.

_Not much; they merely would have focused their attention on making a good alliance with some nice lad from an upstanding Methody family,_ Afra said with a mental chuckle.

_I'm not sure what's wrong with your "lifestyle"_ she said.

_I suspect they may have unintentionally glamorized it-or vilified it-in their minds. Callisto's culture is primarily Terran, after all, if only because the closest theater is on Earth, and Terra's culture is well known to contain many things my kinsfolk moved _here_ to be away from. Of course, that was a few generations ago so they don't have any first-hand knowledge beyond what they allow themselves. Thus, the allure. Or the scorn. Very easy to do either, when the truth is unknown._

Damia reflected on that, and with a sting of shame, recalled the scorn she had often reacted with, when training on Capella. She resolved to approach her new extended family with a mind open to new experiences and new ideas.

Unfortunately, they soon found out that they wouldn't always be met with the same.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Um. Hi? I'm alive. It's just been on odd year. I'm recovering a creative drive that pretty much died out while I diverted the energy into other matters. I'm working haphazardly again on several of my fics, so you may see more new content sooner or later. As always, thanks to everyone who reads and reviews!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Chostel Lyon had never paid much attention to his younger brother except when circumstances demanded it, and due to Goswina's early attachment to Afra, Chostel had rarely been in a position where it was _he_ that was demanded upon, rather than _she_, even though it had seemed to him growing up that Afra's presence in the family made a lot of demands upon everyone, if only because he was so _Talented_. Or so their parents stressed out of Afra's earshot.

So it was with some bemusement that he watched Afra and a beautiful young woman enter the restaurant, along with his sister Goswina and their parents. Who was that man? His brother. A brother he had rarely spoken with except in one insane fit of panic where he reached out to find someone, anyone, who would perhaps have the advice he craved. A brother who lived far away, among non-Capellans, encountering who-knew-who, and doing who-knows-what with his life.

_Is that her?_ he wondered, turning his thoughts away from that one embarrassing time he had lost self-control and the realization that perhaps here was another part of his life where he had neglected relationships he probably shouldn't have neglected. She was as young as a bride from the Arid Spans. _Has Afra gone so liberal on us he's flipped right back over to being conservative? Or did he just get tired of...doing whatever he did to comfort himself in the absence of being a married man?_

Chostel carefully checked his mental shields-and not a moment too soon, because as they neared the table that had been reserved for the gathering, he realized why the woman seemed familiar. She was a Prime! One of Earth Prime's daughters in fact.

The cynical part of him wondered if the pairing was an exploitation of Afra's Capellan mores to further the soft-core eugenics program the FT&T had in place for Talents who married Talents and had Talented offspring. Certainly neither Afra nor their younger sisters would have been born if their parents hadn't been offered monetary incentive, not living in the city as they had. Then he dismissed the thought as beneath him; it didn't make sense for him to accuse Afra of being too liberal in one thought, and then too conservative in another. And it was all his own fault; he had never bothered to get to know the man before the boy grew up and hopped offworld as fast as he could go, leaving behind nothing but a few questionable video clips hidden in the temporary folders of the home console.

So perhaps it would be wisest to mend fences.

"And I see our brother is already here, Afra," Goswina said as they approached. "If it's polite to be fifteen minutes early, Chostel is here thirty minutes early."

"This is a popular place," Chostel said, rising. "If everyone expects you to arrive fifteen minutes early, and you arrive fourteen, they might well seat others here, and then where would we be? I kept the seats warm for everyone. Afra, brother, it's good to see you again, particularly under such auspicious circumstances," and he gave his little brother a deep, respectful bow. He'd managed to land a Prime, after all, and even if Afra played too humble to notice the honor he'd gained for their family, Chostel knew the rest of them would get attention locally for some time once the news got out, even once the couple zipped back to Callisto or Earth or wherever intergalactic travelers like them went.

"Chostel. Long time no see," Afra said with a small return bow that was almost truncated, and while his tone was polite, irreverence and un-Capellan choice of phrase also colored the response. Despite both men being shielded, Chostel could swear that Afra was secretly laughing at him for some reason. Well, let him. He'd laugh too if he'd managed to attract a Prime, and doubly so if she were also as beautiful as this one was.

She turned to him, and he wondered if she had heard through his shields regardless, like how Capella was prone to sometimes doing.

"This is Damia Gwyn-Raven. Or Raven-Lyon. Or Gwyn-Lyon. We haven't decided anything beyond 'Gwyn-Raven-Lyon' bearing far too much hubris to use, if only because any offspring we may have would hate us forever if we dared saddle them with that."

"Oh, I'm sure they'd be proud of it," Cheswina said in that idealistic way that avoided really thinking about what a person _would_ do if saddled with a surname like that.

Chostel ignored his mother, and looked into the deep blue and sparkling eyes of his brother's intended. The white stripe in her hair was a lie, as false as the eyespots on a moth. She really was incredibly young; he had friends with children older than she was. _Goswina's_ sons were older than her.

And yet she held herself with grace, met his eyes without the demure lowering of lashes a Capellan girl her age might have displayed. Young, yet ageless. Powerful, but still aware of the people around her, unlike Capella who walled herself away behind eccentricities. And with a pang of despair, he recognized just how _personally_ attractive she was, above and beyond any textbook list of her features and the golden triangle and all other such nonsense.

No. He couldn't fault Afra for grabbing this one when he saw the chance. This was a woman very much like the one that had broken his marriage. Not in features or rank or personality, but in raw sensuality.

_Perhaps the difference between Afra and the rest of us is that he recognizes the futility of barricading everything in with manners and protocols and rules and laws. Even a dam has a sluice gate._

He had no business thinking such things in this company, however, sluice gates aside. He felt himself blanch slightly as she regarded him, since he knew his flimsy T-7 shields wouldn't hold an instant if she were truly curious. And, strangely enough, if what Father had said was true, about Afra's last official Talent rating, they wouldn't hold before Afra either.

_Was that what had attracted Afra, too? The thought that maybe his shields wouldn't hold before her gaze?_

Enough. He slammed down the old barricade of self-control; even if the design was fundamentally faulty, he _needed_ it now, before he did, said, or merely thought something stupid. _If I hadn't already_.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Chostel," Damia said, no inkling in her face or manner that she might have caught what had been going on deep behind his shields.

"The pleasure is entirely mine, Prime," he said, and bowed deeply to her. "Welcome to our family."

And then the introduction was over, as Marwina and Elle-Lial arrived just then, with their husbands. Damia's attention was quickly diverted to meeting and greeting Chostel and Afra's other sisters. Chostel breathed a sigh of relief. The two of them could chatter on for hours. Only their mother's stern disapproval of gossip had curbed the tendency in them so that their chatter tended to focus on their children and grandchildren, instead of any popular (and distasteful) scandal.

* * *

**Author's Note: **To my dismay, I discovered Granath's Towerdex, which I had relied on to fact-check some of my stories since I rarely have the books on hand, is no longer around. I think it went down when Geocities did. So, all mistakes in canon are mine. Not that they ever _weren't_, but I may have a few more than usual. That said, Chostel IS Afra's canon elder brother, and not invented by me. He's mentioned only once in canon, though, as someone in his teens at least when Afra is 6, a bit younger than Goswina, and disinclined to spend time with little boys like his younger brother. I pulled the T-7 rating out of a hat; Goswina is a T-6 according to canon, and considered somewhat strong in the eyes of the Lyon family. One of the parents, although I don't recall which one, is a T-8. The father is a telekinetic, the mother is a 'path of some sort...unsure if it's telepathy, empathy, or both. So I said what the hey, he's a T-7, and a 'path of some kind. The sisters other than Goswina are mentioned too in canon, but never named or numbered (there could be two or twenty for all we know) or given much of anything, so I went with two and gave them names.


End file.
